Would you go gay for Summer Glau?
by plug in baby57
Summary: Not to Sam, not right now and especially not with Spencer ready to walk in and see his little sister trying to ravish her best friend." Carly and Sam get caught up in a strange game. Cam, with Smut in later chapters.


**Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly, Chewbacca, Summer Glau, Johnny Depp or the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, particularly Donatello.**

"I'm hungry." Sam whined. She had whined the long walk from school and Carly was getting annoyed. They were in the elevator, going to the apartment, Sam was literally thirty seconds from raiding the fridge for all of the cooked pig meat it contained and yet she was still complaining and holding her stomach as if it might explode. "You should have brought that meat off that hobo," She complained.

"That meat could have been anything, Sam." Carly said, still astounded that Sam could think buying meat from hobo was a good idea. For all she knew that could have been another hobo, freshly murdered. Then, as the elevator door opened, Sam's stomach growled and not in a metaphorical way, Carly would've stressed, it actually _growled._

Stepping out into her apartment, it became apparent to Carly that Sam's stomach had garnered Spencer's attention, her brother and legal guardian. Before she could fully take in the scene he asked a rather strange question.

"Who's watching Star Wars?"

To which Carly's answer was "What?" Admittedly, she was aware that wasn't an actual answer.

"Well," he began. "I thought I heard Chewbacca." Sam had already gone straight for the fridge. And Carly finally took in the scene that was before and had to turn away from Spencer.

"This was so important that you had to get out of the shower?" She asked, as Sam found and began devouring a plate of sausages. Spencer made a few sounds of realisation, that if forced to spell out Carly would probably settle on "Owahooacke", with a silent 'e'. Also, if forced she would suggest that Sam's next statement was going for the double entendre. Then again it could just have been about the meat she was currently consuming, a statement which Carly would've stressed was not going for the double entendre, but she just couldn't think of another way to word it.

"Hey Spence," She began. "Nice sausage." She ended, somehow managing to make the situation _more_ awkward for Carly, even winking for added effect. Carly heard Spencer hurry back to his bathroom.

"Thanks for that, Sam." Carly said, whilst mentally bleaching her memory of that moment.

"What?" Sam questioned. "These are good sausages." She said innocently, walking past Carly and heading for the couch adding, as she dropped onto it "And your brother has a nice penis too."

"I don't need to hear this," Carly said, dropping down next to her blonde friend and switching the television on.

"Don't worry Cupcake," Sam said, or at least mumbled as she bit into another sausage. "If I had to fuck any Shay, it'd be you." She said, reaching an arm over to hug Carly's shoulder.

"Well thanks, because that's obviously what I'm having issues with right now. And is Chewbacca going to be quiet?" She asked.

"Yes, Spencer sure knows how to prepare meat."

"Well, can you stop eating those? It's giving me disturbing images."

--

"Would you go gay for Summer Glau?" Sam asked, arm still draped over Carly's shoulder. Carly had to wonder where that question had come from. They were watching Girly Cow. The two rhymed but Sam wasn't that much of a lateral thinker, so coming out with something as random as that was a little unexpected but it was at least explainable. Less so was the gay part, unless Wendy had some more of those videos on her phone again and was showing them around school today. Also, it was a question not worth asking because the answer was obvious.

"Of course I would." Carly replied. "Wouldn't you?"

"Yeah. I was just checking how gay you are."

"Why?"

"Because I've been fondling your right boob for two minutes now." Carly looked down to see that the hand formerly on her shoulder had journeyed through her collar. She was caught between amazement and fear.

"Your hand is actually under my shirt, how did you do that?" she asked. She was finding it hard to accept that this was actually possible. She was aware of the hand on her shoulder and then somehow lost track of it moving downwards and then completely missed the squeezing. It was only light squeezing, but she was sure she should have noticed something. A perplexing situation for anyone.

"Because I have ninja skills and you're very gay." Sam answered. Ninja skills was a phrase growing in favour with Sam, ever since she claimed to have met and trained with a hobo named Colin. Despite the fact that Carly knew that no ninjas were named Colin or lived as a hobo. And pirates were much better anyway. A thought she decided to vocalise.

"Pirates are better than ninjas." She vocalised, bringing a violent reaction from Sam.

"No they're not. They all have scurvy and don't wash." Sam argued. The pirates against ninjas debate was very important to Sam, who when asked what she wanted to be when she grew up in fourth grade, launched into a lengthy description of a black-clad girl jumping from ceilings and stabbing people in the liver. She didn't even care about which side had Johnny Depp.

"So? Name a ninja that isn't a teenage mutant turtle. And they're all outshone by the renaissance artists they're named after." Carly argued, whilst wondering just why Sam was still groping her.

"Bullshit. Donatello's known for being the not famous ninja turtle. Besides, ninjas are stealthy, they don't go blundering around and burying their loot for no fucking reason." Sam's growing anger was apparent and a little overwrought but was accompanied by, of all things, gentler breast play. Now Carly had to wonder why she was sitting there and letting Sam do this. She put it down to tiredness.

"So you're saying ninjas are cowards?" Carly teased. It was great fun to watch Sam's vehement defence of her planned career. She knew she wouldn't win this argument until she could counter Sam's best, and unbeatable point.

"It's not like pirates are much better, nowadays all they do is make shit quality DVDs." That was the pirates major problem. Ninjas no longer existed, outside of Sam' world at least, so they would be eternally cool. Pirates, however, still existed and not even Johnny Depp could glamorise burning DVDs in a dingy basement for some Chinese Triads. What was even worse for Carly was Sam still had a hand down her top.

"Let's get back to what's important." She began, indignantly. "How am I gay?" She continued, although she guessed that it was because Sam had a twisted kind of logic when it came to love and sexual matters. "If anything, it makes you gay." She continued on.

"How did you work that out?" Sam retorted and Carly determined that she was right about Sam's logic, as she was completely unable to see Carly's logical and obviously correct conclusion.

"Because," Carly answered, "you touch girls, which means you're the one that wants to touch girls and wanting to touch girls is gay." Carly thought that made sense and was also pleased at the amount of times she managed to fit "touch girls" into one sentence.

"So? You're the one enjoying it." Sam said, leaving Carly slightly offended.

"Enjoying it? I can barely feel it. Try something a bit harder, and I might enjoy it." She said before quickly adding, "Not that I will because I'm not gay." She was unsure as to why she was encouraging Sam, a question that was left unanswered as Sam accepted her encouragement.

Carly was instantly struck by the thought that Sam moved around a lot in her sleep. Sleep often undertook in Carly's bed. So, Sam probably had an intimate knowledge of her body from some sort of sleep-groping. That definitely explained why Sam was far better at this then the guys that had touched her up. Well, that was only two guys and one of them was just a random guy who fell over and accidentally grabbed her and was terribly embarrassed about it. But that played into her hands, because she was so inexperienced it meant she simply hadn't found a guy good at it and it was definitely not because of Sam. She had concluded that Jake Crandall was just plain crap with his hands and had an uncanny likeness to Sam.

She began to panic after realising the situation she was in. Sam was looking at her and waiting for her to speak. She'd have to say something, hopefully without spending a moment opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish. Something that was not about how much she enjoyed another girl's hand on her breast. She needed time to think about this, not just about what she was going to say, but about all of this. She cocked an eyebrow to buy another precious second, one that evaporated quickly and made her realise a second isn't all that long, but she had something and it fit in with the cocky eyebrow as well.

"See, you're practically my bitch." She blurted out and then mentally congratulated herself on saying what was possibly they gayest thing in existence. Miraculously she fought the urge to go headbutt a wall and settled on the mantra: "look cocky" and repeated it in her head, over and over and hoped she wouldn't explode in homoerotic tension.

This was not made easier by Sam adopting a near identical expression. Eyebrow up in a stupidly sexy way, she said "But that means you want a bitch." The only thing holding Carly together was the idea that she couldn't lose. Not to Sam, not right now and especially not with Spencer ready to walk in and see his little sister trying to ravish her best friend.

"Giving it is gay." She struggled to say in a calm tone.

"No way, the receiver's the gay one." Sam replied, and against all reason, Carly not only managed to continue breathing properly but form another sentence that worked in the context of the situation.

"That's not how it works." She began to accept that maybe there was something gay in her. Bisexual at worst. Not that, even. Just gay for Sam? That worked for her. Whatever was going on she wasn't going to figure it with Sam feeling her up like that.

"Yes it is, I'll text Wendy and she'll tell you I'm right." Sam plucked her hand from out of Carly's top and reached into her pocket, searching for her phone. Carly mentally breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that doing it aloud would alert Sam's suspicions.

"How will she know?" Carly said, leaning over Sam and resisting the bizarre urge to put her blond curls in her mouth and wondering why the fuck she would have a desire to eat Sam's hair. If she had to eat anyone's hair, she would choose Sam's but this was not an 'eat hair or die' situation.

"She gets all those videos. She's bound to know." Sam said, fingers texting quickly. Wendy's videos on her cell phone were infamous and at least sixty percent of them were illegal. No one else had the slightest idea where to even start looking for a video of a woman doing _that_ with a horse or had the guts to ask two random girls they'd met at a party if they wanted to film a lesbian porno. Or, for that matter, actually use their cell phone to film a lesbian porno starring two random girls they'd met at a party. Wendy's list of achievements was both impressive and creepily sexual.

The text was soon sent, with the message "Who's gay, pitcher or catcher?"

Carly took a further moment, whilst waiting for the reply, to return to a regular seated position, guessing that this was perhaps not a great time to be in Sam's personal space. "What's it say?" She asked when the phone vibrated. Sam pressed a few buttons before showing the screen to Carly.

"Catcher."

Carly decided that Wendy was full of shit.

--

"So, you want to know what I'd do if you were gay?" Spencer asked. His baby sister had left him befuddled. He liked to think he could give good advice from time to time, but Carly and her friends always confused him. It had taken five minutes of explaining, but he finally realised Carly was saying she had a crush on Sam. Or at least he thought so. A hypothetical girl had a hypothetical crush on her hypothetical best friend who co-hosted their hypothetical webshow and Carly wanted to know what the hypothetical girl's hypothetical brother would say that she should do, hypothetically, of course.

Spencer was partially stuck on the hypothetical best friend. Was she the actual hypothetical friend of the hypothetical girl, or was she a hypothetical friend that the hypothetical girl had hypothetically created when approaching her hypothetical brother? What about the brother, was he also a hypothetical creation of the hypothetical girl? Unfortunately Carly interrupted his musings.

"No, I want to know what the hypothetical brother would do if the hypothetical girl was gay." Spencer knew what he'd do if he was in this situation, but this hypothetical brother isn't him, he's just a concept and one thing Spencer knew was that concepts could change. It happened all the time with his art work. His bottle robot wasn't even meant to be a sculpture, he'd been trying to build a wine rack.

"Carly," he began. "I don't know what some hypothetical dude would do." He saw her face fall before he could finish. "But," he said excitedly, "I can show you what I would do." She barely had time to ask "What?" before she found herself scooped up and spinning around in some sort of revolving bear hug.

She eventually managed to ask, "Why are you doing this?" He had several reasons. Adulthood meant much less opportunity for spinning. He wasn't very strong and she was just about the only person he could actually lift. As children grew up they wanted less hugs. He didn't say any of those.

"Because you are my baby sister and I'd love you even if you tried to boil a kitten." Her reply was not what he expected.

"Can you stop spinning, I feel sick."

**--A/N--**

**At last, I've found some inspiration and it's not as confusing/pointless as Retrokill. I started with the game of gay chicken (get a friend of the same sex, lean in for a kiss and first to falter loses.) Somehow that got here and thenext chapter(s) will get very hot and heavy. Anyway, throw in some sausage innuendo, my fixation with Summer Glau, the fact that the only famous ninjas are mutant turtles and nobody knew who Donatello was before they showed up and give Wendy a personality based on one of my old school friends (who did have a video on his mobile of a woman and horse) and you get two and a half k of words in the form of this fic.**

**I am yet to decide as to whether 'Colin' is actually a ninja or just a deranged hobo. Also what is the plural of 'Hobo'? Openoffice doesn't recognise 'hobos' or 'hoboes' and I refuse to even try 'hobi'. I added the last scene because I just don't write enough Spencer and I find it hilarious to repeat the same word as much as possible in one sentence. I was going to put more 'hypothetical's in but I was struggling to follow my own idea and I'm not even sure if Spencer's view on it comes across clearly. The 'touch girls' bit was also in that vain and partially inspired by my brother once asking his mate "If you got the feeling, would you touch the boys?". Also, considering I'm planning on some graphic girl love later, I decided to lower my self-censorship with regards to swearing and then barely swore at all. **

**And I'm disappointed that I can no longer spin around for no reason. So, advice to the young 'uns reading this, enjoy it while it lasts. Not that any of them should be reading this, it's rated M.  
**


End file.
